Just like Britney!!!

Britney Spears and I were hospitalized (get this): on the same night! Coincidence? Umm, I guess so. Unlike her, I was not hauled off to the glee of hundreds of paparazzi after having a spat (delivered in an odd and newly-hatched British accent) with my boyfriend. However, being in said hospital has enabled me to watch TV for the first time in who knows how long, and the press, of course, is all over this Britney story. Only didn't this same thing happen, like two weeks ago?

Oh, right: for the ever-so-minute percentage of Americans who care more about me than a pop tart-cum-(former) Federline lover-cum-bewigged lighter thieving menace to society, I was just admitted for a couple days of observation on account of low amniotic fluid levels. Also, the little bugger has apparently picked the middle of the 36th week (mere days before he's considered full term) to flip himself into a transverse (side-lying) position, which does not bode well for delivery.

Thus far the upshot of my hospitalization is that, besides aforementioned TV viewing, I have gotten to nap, make some leeway on the latest Joyce Carol Oates, and learn how to pee whilst decked in various sensors, elastic bands, cords, and other medical monitoring paraphernalia. I have also had unlimited access to tiny cans of soda and chocolate pudding. Muhahahaha! I'm trying not to let the power go to my head. Seriously, though, the hospital is pretty alright, not that I want to make a habit out of spending too much time here. I have my own room and Mercer can spend the night and the nurses are way nice.

Well, I gots another ultrasound tomorrow to check on the fluids, and if they're up the midwife or ob may try an external cephalic version (manually flipping the baby externally).